George Crabbe and His Times, 1754-1832: A Critical and Biographical StudyJ. Murray, 1907 - 561 pages |
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Common terms and phrases
Aldborough appear beauty Beccles Belvoir Belvoir Castle Biographer Borough Broadley Collection brother Burke character Church clergyman Crabbe Crabbe's dated death delight distress doubt dreams Duke Duke of Rutland Elmy Evershot eyes father favour fear feel Fitzgerald George George Crabbe give Hall hand happiness heart hope humble Ibid Jachin John kind labour Lady letter live London look Lord Lord Holland Lord North Mackay Collection maid married mind Mira moral Murray Muston nature never pain Parham Parish Register passage passions perhaps Peter Grimes pleasure poem poet poetry poor pride quoted realism Rendham reply Rutland satire says seems sermon smile soul squire Stathern story Suffolk Swefling Sybil tale thee thou thought town trembling Trowbridge Vale of Belvoir verse Village wife wretched wrote young youth
Popular passages
Page 156 - Where the thin harvest waves its withered ears ; Rank weeds, that every art and care defy, Reign o'er the land and rob the blighted rye : There thistles stretch their prickly arms afar, And to the ragged infant threaten war...
Page 162 - Theirs is yon House that holds the parish poor, Whose walls of mud scarce bear the broken door; There, where the putrid vapours, flagging, play, And the dull wheel hums doleful through the day; There children dwell who know no parents' care; Parents, who know no children's love, dwell there!
Page 237 - I feel his absence in the hours of prayer, And view his seat and sigh for Isaac there: I see no more those white locks thinly spread Round the bald polish of that...
Page 163 - Impatience mark'd in his averted eyes; And, some habitual queries hurried o'er, Without reply, he rushes on the door: His drooping patient, long inured to pain, And long unheeded, knows remonstrance vain ; He ceases now the feeble help to crave Of man; and silent sinks into the grave. But ere his death some pious doubts arise, Some simple fears, which 'bold bad...
Page 157 - Rank weeds, that every art and care defy, Reign o'er the land and rob the blighted rye : There Thistles stretch their prickly arms afar, And to the ragged infant threaten war; There Poppies nodding, mock the hope of toil, There the blue Bugloss paints the sterile soil ; Hardy and high, above the slender sheaf, The slimy Mallow waves her silky leaf; O'er the young shoot the Charlock throws a shade, And clasping Tares cling round the sickly blade ; With mingled tints the rocky coasts abound, And a...
Page 245 - Lo! now with red rent cloak and bonnet black, And torn green gown loose hanging at her back, One who an infant in her arms sustains, And seems in patience striving with her pains; Pinch'd are her looks, as one who pines for bread, Whose cares are growing - and whose hopes are fled; Pale her parch...
Page 158 - As you who praise, would never deign to touch. Ye gentle souls, who dream of rural ease, Whom the smooth stream and smoother sonnet please; Go! if the peaceful cot your praises share, Go look within, and ask if peace be there; If peace be his, that drooping weary sire; Or theirs, that offspring round their feeble fire; Or hers, that matron pale, whose trembling hand Turns on the wretched hearth the expiring brand.
Page 163 - Such is that room which one rude beam divides, And naked rafters form the sloping sides; Where the vile bands that bind the thatch are seen, And lath and mud are all that lie between; Save one dull pane, that, coarsely patched, gives way To the rude tempest, yet excludes the day...
Page 172 - I thank your ladyship for the information concerning the Methodist preachers : their doctrines are .most repulsive, and strongly tinctured with impertinence and disrespect towards their superiors, in perpetually endeavouring to level all ranks and do away with all distinctions. It is monstrous to be told, that you have a heart as sinful as the common wretches that crawl on the earth. This is highly offensive and insulting : and I cannot but wonder that your ladyship should relish any sentiments so...
Page 124 - MY days among the Dead are past ; Around me I behold, Where'er these casual eyes are cast, The mighty minds of old: My never-failing friends are they, With whom I converse day by day.